Page 69 of Flock Around and Find Out

The moon had risen, full and bright enough to make it easy to see. We were in the space behind Galen’s house, the acres of desert landscape the perfect place to ensure no one saw us. He’d told his pack to stay away for tonight, and while a few had no doubt grumbled, none had shown up.

“Where is everyone?” I asked. “I’m usually the late one. I don’t think I like being early.”

Galen seemed just as tense as he the last time I’d seen him two weeks before. It seemed whatever was wrong hadn’t gotten any better over our time apart. He peered toward the house. “I gave Ruben the information. When the representatives arrive, they’ll meet us back here.”

Talk about a non-answer. Or, rather, an answer meant to keep on track about the subject and not risk us actually talking about anything important.

I kicked a rock with the toe of my boot, and it skipped across the dry sand, the white surface having a sheen from the moonlight. I hated the idea of going in general, but the idea of going with a bunch of people I didn’t even know sat even worse. How could I trust them? Not just me, but Galen. I didn’t love the idea of them having our backs, of us having to put our lives in their grubby little hands.

Nope. Bad idea.

I wasn’t what anyone would think of as overly trusting, and this went to prove it pretty well.

It meant I had to deal with them, with what we were working on, with all this bullshit.

“You know,” I pointed out, “I’ve never actually seen you shift. I’ve seen you shifted, but not the process.”

“Are you worried about it?”

“Are you?”

He didn’t make that weird, didn’t imply I should or shouldn’t be, only posed what was clearly a concern of his.

I snorted. “Do you haveanyidea what I’ve seen by now? No, I’m not worried, not one bit. Why would I be? A little good old-fashioned bestiality is nothing anymore.”

He laughed, the sound soft and missed. It felt like a moment of the old us, the way I much preferred us, with Galen slightly annoyed and me impossibly charming.

Or at least I thought so.

“So, you ready to tell me what’s been bothering you?” I asked when I couldn’t help it anymore, when I couldn’t stop myself from broaching the topic. I often hated to do that because I didn’t always want the answer.

What if the answer was one I’d be happier not knowing? What if he decided to tell me things I’d much prefer to stay ignorant about?

But I was supposedly an adult—or so my age said—so I tried to act like it and address the issue between us.

Except, before he answered, the side gate opened and four shadows appeared.

Which meant we were interrupted by whoever the clan heads had sent. I had no doubt that they’d be good—they wouldn’t dare send anyone half-assed, not if it was with me. In fact, I’d bet that Kelvin would have well-threatened whoever he sent to ensure they knew better than let anything happen to me. Porter wasn’t a threatening type, but no one would want to piss him off. Any Justice Ruben sent would be no fun, but capable, as they all were. The fourth had to be a mind, though I didn’t have a clue who Harrison would send—if he’d even send anyone.

I sort of expected him just to ignore Ruben’s request, given that’s how he’d reacted to anything having to do with me since everything had happened.

Galen pressed his lips together, his jaw tight. It seemed he wasn’t a fan of having others around even if he acknowledged that it was a good idea. Accepting something and liking it were a big fucking difference.

The figures got closer, and when I could identify them, I didn’t quite understand what I was seeing.

In the front was a cocky gait I’d recognizeanywhere,and Kelvin had the smirk to match. Beside him was Porter, dressed in a pair of loose pants and a white shirt, something that made him look almost entirely normal. The third was Ruben, not smiling, but was he ever? The last, for a moment, I thought was Harrison.

The idea hit me so hard, I smiled at first. If he came, that had to mean he’d forgiven me, right?

Except, when they shifted from behind Porter, I saw that it was a stranger. A man, in his thirties perhaps, rather unassuming. He showed no sign of recognition as he approached, appearing to be the exact sort of errand boy I’d expect to be sent on such a mission.

It left me standing there, confused, as the four approached.

“What the fuck?” I asked as they reached me.

“Come on, Birdy, is that any way to react when people come to help you?” Kelvin said.

“You were supposed to send a representative—not come yourselves.”

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